


catharsis

by mosscoveredking



Series: drabbles [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Pining, Vomit, funky pov, or no apple incident!! you decide baby, pre-apple incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24034093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosscoveredking/pseuds/mosscoveredking
Summary: the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.
Relationships: Dream/Nightmare - Relationship, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734169
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	catharsis

A skeleton should not feel pain in an organ they lack entirely. Thinking about this does nothing to help the scratching in my throat, the agony of rough bark and buds digging into flesh that isn’t there - I gag, I’ve been gagging, choking on snot and leaves and wood and sticky flower petals. I can’t even hear myself begging. There’s nothing but the dripping of blood and puke running down my chin and onto the stone tile - the one with our handprints in it and those blue pebbles you found by the river we bathe in - and shuffling, squelching leaves. My chest is burning and my marrow has been replaced by a hundred million fire ants - remember when I tripped into that patch of dirt and they tried to eat me alive? When I screamed and you jumped right in after me, you still have the scars on your ankles and hands - biting, pinching, writhing around in their own venom and blistering me inside out. It has to be almost over.

I breathe in and everything smells all too sweet, breathe in deeper and everything is metallic blood and acidic magic. If my mouth and throat weren’t stuffed all too full, I wouldn’t have to know that. I decide that I hate apple blossoms. I don’t want to look at them ever again. Pink and white and yellow swirl behind my eyes, behind my teeth, my chest, I see nothing but five-petaled blossoms soaked with vomit and branches dripping with blood, leaves sticking together in crimson and parakeet clumps. On the edges of everything I can hear myself crying. I like the sound of my tears much better than yours. When you cry, it’s the sound of withering plants and dying birds and everything I hate about myself. 

I never was a gardener. That has always been you. You weave life with your fingers in the soil, coaxing green to the surface to bask in your sunlight; I hear you singing to the plants sometimes in early spring and late fall, whispering sweet things to them, and they lean into you every time. The plum tree I hide under now, the lilacs swaying on my left, the allium blooms bobbing gently to my right - you planted each seed, picked the grubs off their leaves, supported their stems, gave them cold water from the stream, convinced their roots to take hold through song and sweet whispers, and I watched. I brought the pails of water to you, I traded for the seeds and tools, and I cleaned the dirt from your phalanges after long days of work. 

This pain feels so much better now that I’m thinking about you. Your face, your soft sunlight eyes, your strong bones and graceful movements and the sweet honey-milk song of your voice. Even when you’re talking of the most mundane things, you look so thankful. I see you sometimes basking in early morning sunlight, sipping tea with cream and honey, and you’re smiling to yourself. About the birds, the sky, the tea, about anything at all. You look so _beautiful_ like that.

I wish I knew how to feel like that. Every day, I think you teach me a little more.

Even now, I can picture your smile. Even now, curled up in the dark with my hands tearing the seams of my tunic, breathing in the scent of my blood and blossoms, tears and vomit streaking my face and horrible fucking anguish blacking out my mind, I can see you and it makes it all better.

Slowly I unclasp the grip on my sides and bring shaking hands to my mouth. My eyes are wrenched shut and I focus everything that’s left into picturing _you_. Trembling fingers brush against the flowers and their stems sprouted from my gaping jaws and I try, I try not to feel it. I just think about you, holding your hand through town, donning your beloved cape on those perfect shoulders, cuddling up to you during thunderstorms, burying my face in your neck, your legs between mine. I think about what it would be like to make love to you, to taste your neck and run my fingers over your ribs, nuzzle your sternum, press loving kisses to your thighs as I stroke your ilium, to forget myself between your legs.

I _pull_. The bark snags on my throat and splinters, I pull harder, like I’m producing scarves from my sleeves to make you laugh, except it’s flora, not fabric, and all the pretty colors are stained with my ugly purple magic and hot blood and it _hurts_. Just a little bit more. My arms are shaking, I’m trying to yank my head back, and plants just keep coming out, choking me, ripping up my mouth--

The mass of tangled branches comes free and I fall backwards, gasping and curling into myself. I can’t stop throwing up. My chest and lap are soaked in it and it tastes _awful_ , everything smells like chunks of burnt magic and blood and apple juice. 

Finally, I stop heaving. Finally, I can breathe. I’m collapsed on my side, too depleted to move. Sour, violet magic and dark blood swirl together a breath from my face. I see the bush I coughed up for you through bleary, tearstained eyes. I am so, so tired.

“Nightmare?”

Your voice sounds like clean water on my ruined throat. Where are you? You sound so far away. I know you’ll be coming soon. All I have to do is close my eyes and you will be here. Perhaps when I open them, I’ll already be in the river, cleansed. Or maybe I’ll be inside in fresh clothes, in your bed, perhaps…

**Author's Note:**

> i love the rarepair discord so hecking much,, dragonfruiteen was the one who suggested hanahaki. fe's the coolest!!


End file.
